documents more than necessary.”
Bryn said, “When do you need it?”
“At a guess, in a few days, when I’ve had time to see what’s here.”
“I’ll see to it. If you need Internet access, I’ve set it up in the smoking room because I use it when I’m here.”
Bryn left shortly after dinner. He kissed his mother goodbye and said, “Rachel…a word?”
She followed him along the wide, dim passageway to the front door, where he stopped and looked down at her without immediately speaking.
Rachel said, “You needn’t worry about the book, really. You—or your mother—are paying for it, and have total control over what goes in, or doesn’t.”
He smiled faintly. “I’m sure we can trust your discretion, Rachel. It’s my mother I’m concerned about. She’s always been inclined to go overboard on any new enthusiasm. If she looks like tiring herself out I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know, quietly.”
Years ago she’d have blindly agreed to anything Bryn asked of her. But she didn’t fancy going behind Pearl’s back. “If I see anything to be worried about,” she said carefully, “of course I’ll do whatever’s necessary.”
He didn’t miss the evasion. “She’s not as strong as she likes to pretend.”
“If you think she needs a nursemaid—”
Bryn gave a crack of laughter. “She’d skin me alive if I suggested it.”
“Hardly.” Her tone dry, she let her gaze roam over his tall, strong body before returning to his face.
He watched her, his mouth lifting at one corner, a faint glow in his eyes. “I wasn’t suggesting you add nursemaid to your duties. It’s good she has someone in the house anyway.” He paused. “This scanner-printer. Any particular specifications?”
“A good OCR programme. It needs to read documents.” She told him the make and model of her computer. He opened the door, hesitated, then leaned towards her and touched his lips briefly to her cheek. “Good night, Rachel.”
After closing the door behind him she stood for a moment, the warmth of his lips fading from her skin, then mentally she shook herself and turned to see Pearl come out of the kitchen at the end of the passageway.
“What did Bryn want?” the older woman asked.
“Oh, it was about the scanner,” Rachel said. Then she added, “And he said he’s glad you have someone in the house.”
“He worries too much. I love this place, and I intend to stay until they carry me out in a box. Or until Bryn has a family and moves in—should they want to.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to leave if he did that.”
“His wife might. And I might too by then.” Rather wistfully Pearl tacked on, “If it ever happens.”
By which time Rachel would be long gone, she told herself. Not that it mattered anyway.
CHAPTER TWO
BRYN DROVE OFF feeling oddly dissatisfied with himself. At least they’d brought that old business into the open, and that should have cleared the air between him and Rachel, as well as easing his conscience. He’d sensed a constraint in her from the moment their eyes met at the bus terminal, and he didn’t believe her claim that she’d not given any subsequent thought to their last meeting. A soft, rueful laugh escaped him, remembering the deliberate put-down with which she’d denied it. “Rather overdoing it there, honey,” he murmured aloud.
She certainly was different from the rather gauche innocent who sometimes reappeared in his dreams. If she’d never had a similar nocturnal problem he ought to be relieved, but at first he’d felt nothing but chagrin, and had to quell an impulse to exact a sweet revenge on her lovely mouth even as it mocked him.
Instead he’d swallowed the unaccustomed medicine like a man, because she was entitled.
There was an intriguing dislocation between the Rachel Moore he remembered and the Rachel he’d met today. Now and then a glimpse of the ardent, uncomplicated girl peeked through the cool reserve of the woman, arousing in him a capricious desire to probe deeper and find out just how much she had really changed.
A glance at the clock on the dashboard reminded him his departure was later than he’d intended. He’d been seeing a lot of Kinzi Broadbent lately, and he’d half promised to drop in after delivering the historian his mother had hired to Rivermeadows. But he hadn’t even thought to call Kinzi.
Already on the motorway, he didn’t want to use his mobile phone. For some reason he didn’t feel like seeing Kinzi now. Instead he drove home and phoned her from there, saying he’d stayed for dinner with his mother, was tired and wanted an early night. Although she accepted the excuse, her voice was a little clipped as she wished him a good sleep. He’d have to make it up to her.
Three days later Rachel was in the smoking room, sorting through boxes of old letters, diaries and papers and spreading the contents over the big table—made of a single slab of thousand-year-old kauri—that dominated the space.
The door opened and Bryn strode in carrying a large cardboard box. Absorbed in her task, she hadn’t heard the car.
“Your scanner,” he said. “Where do you want it?”
“On the desk?” She stripped off the gloves she was wearing to handle the fragile old documents and hurried to clear a couple of boxes from the heavy oak desk in a corner of the room where she’d placed her computer. “I didn’t expect you to deliver it yourself.”
“I wanted to check on my mother.”
“She seems fine. Did you see her on your way in?”
He’d taken a paper knife from a drawer and began slitting the tape on the carton. “Yes, busy watering potted plants on the terrace. She’s excited about this,” he said, nodding towards the documents on the table. “How’s it coming along?”
“Deciding what to leave out may be a problem. There’s such a wealth of material.”
They connected the machine to her laptop and she sat down to test it while Bryn stood leaning against the desk.
A sheet of paper eased out of the printer and they both reached for it, their fingers momentarily tangling. Rachel quickly withdrew her hand and Bryn shot her a quizzical look before picking up the test page and scrutinising it. “Looks good,” he said, passing it to her.
“Yes.” Rachel kept her eyes on the paper. “Thank you. It’ll be a big help.”
“Glad to oblige,” he answered on a rather dry note.
Looking up, she found him regarding her with what seemed part curiosity and part…vexation? Then he swung away from the desk and strolled to the table, idly studying the papers laid out there, some in plastic sleeves. Carefully turning one to a readable angle, he said, “What’s this?”
She went over to stand beside
